Letters to Kate
by seilleanmor
Summary: Richard Castle is in love with Kate Beckett. So how does he let her go? COMPLETE
1. With or Without You

Darling Kate,

You looked so beautiful today. So beautiful that I had to stop for a moment and force myself to breathe. It shouldn't be possible. But then, that's you all over, isn't it? Defying the odds.

You were wearing your dress uniform. Well, actually, it wasn't _your_ dress uniform. It was a new one. Your old one has a bullet hole in it. Your eyes were shut as you lay there. Apart from the absence of the rise and fall of your chest, you could have been asleep.

I remember at the funeral home when they let me say goodbye to you, you were cold. You were cold even as the heat of my tears fell on your face. You were cold even with the warmth of my sobs against your neck.

I touched my face to yours, and I imagined what you would have said, if you had the breath to say it. You'd probably have asked me what the hell I was doing, and pushed me away.

Always pushing me away Kate. But how I longed for you to do so that day.

I got to hold you. But you were cold. You were lifeless. You lay there while I sobbed over you.

They got the bastard that did this to you. He was stupid, shooting you in a graveyard full of cops. They got him, and you know what I did. I walked over there and I punched him hard enough to knock him out. I broke my hand on his face, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to kick him. I wanted to tear him to shreds. I wanted him to bleed out all over the green, green grass. The same way you had just done. Only for him, there would be no comfort in the arms of his partner. For him, there would be no long awaited declaration of love.

Slipping away from the world cannot be easy. I hope I made the transition as smooth as possible. I hope you found comfort in my words. Know that I meant them. I love you, Kate. More than anyone I've ever met. My love for you is matched only by my love for Alexis.

Speaking of my daughter, she's distraught too. I always knew she respected you, but she says you were friends. It appears that the two of you spent more time together than I ever knew about. I asked you to take care of her if something happened to me. I never even considered what she'd do if something happened to _you_.

My mother told me that there are five stages of grief. I definitely suffered through the first three, but I have yet to reach the fifth. And the fourth has been the underlying current since the shot rang out.

The first one is denial. After I'd finished hitting the bastard who did this to you, I ran back up to where you lay. The paramedics and Lanie sat next to you. Lanie was crying. One of the paramedics said 'I'm so sorry, there's nothing we can do.' I yelled at him, screamed really. I told him not to be so stupid. I begged him to take you to the hospital. Lanie took my hand and made me touch your neck, made me feel that there was no pulse. But I refused to believe it. I couldn't. Alexis ran to me and we held each other. I screamed until I went hoarse.

I couldn't speak for a few days afterwards. Not that I wanted to. But God, every time I opened my mouth and heard the scratchy broken sound masquerading as my voice my thoughts snapped right back to you. Lying there on the grass.

I still buy your coffee every morning. In that respect, I don't think that you move from stage to stage of grief, but rather each stage piles on top of the previous ones, until you cannot breathe from the weight of them all. I have seen the other stages, but I am still in denial. Even today, the day we buried you.

The second stage is anger. I think that one came first in a way, what with me knocking out your killer. But it really kicked in when I got home. I went into my office and I destroyed everything related to Nikki Heat. I burnt the books, I smashed my laptop. I'd already thrown a glass at the latest cover art earlier in the week, but someone had set it back up. So I burnt that too. I tore my entire study to shreds. I couldn't look at any of it. Because every time I did I thought of you.

The anger is still there. Situations that I'd usually be able to deal with are suddenly too much for me to handle. I yell at Alexis all the time. I thought that she'd just take it, but she screams right back at me. I guess she's in the anger stage too, although she isn't as deeply sucked in as I am.

The third stage is bargaining. You know I'm not in any way religious, but I prayed to every higher power that I could think of. If they brought you back, I'd give myself. If they brought you back to me just for ten minutes, so I could tell you again, tell you properly, how much I love you. I knew it wouldn't work, but that didn't stop me from trying.

You know, they asked me to do the eulogy. As I stood there, I looked over to my side, the same way you had done when you had to read the eulogy at the Captain's funeral. I looked around, seeking your eyes, but I never found them. I like to think that you heard what I said, but I'm going to write it out here anyway.

_I don't need to stand here and tell all of you how much I loved Kate, because all of you saw it. You saw it even when I couldn't. When you love someone, it feels as though you are connected by a cord. That cord keeps you balanced, each of you a weight on each end. And if, suddenly, there is nothing on the other end of that cord, you lose your balance. You fall into nothing, head first, and you don't even care because the other half of your whole could be down there waiting, and you would go to the ends of the earth to get to them. Kate and I fought, we bickered. I teased her, and she frustrated me. But she knew I was always going to be there. Even though she sometimes told me to leave, she never thought that I actually would. I proved it to her, time and time again, that I was never going to give up. Not when it came to her. I can't tell you if Kate loved me, because I never got to have that conversation with her. I never got to show her just how much she meant to me. I left it too late. Kate Beckett was a fantastic detective. A strong, empathetic, brilliant woman. A loyal friend, an incredible partner. I was in awe of Kate Beckett. I was lost, tired of the predictability of my life. My life was mundane, but then I met Kate. And she showed me what life could be. Kate helped me to find myself again. Kate Beckett was extraordinary, and I will love her always. _

Once I was done reading, the only dry eyes in the house were mine. Even Esposito sobbed. When I went to your apartment and told you to think about the people that love you, I know you couldn't really think of anyone. I wish you could have seen the church, Kate. It was packed. People were crammed in, forced to stand. Everyone had such an enormous respect for you. You touched so many lives. Everyone in that room loved you.

I can't say why I didn't cry. Perhaps I'd run low on tears at that point. Or maybe I was just so deep in hell that even crying was past my capabilities.

The fourth stage is depression. Depression is a strange creature. I feel its embrace in the middle of the night. It is not warm, it is cold and icy. It makes my body shake. It makes me have thoughts about things I would never have dreamt of. Depression is the reason why every time I walk into a room I immediately assess all the different ways I could kill myself. The only thing that I can see through the darkness is Alexis, but some days even she isn't enough.

The fifth stage is acceptance. I doubt I will ever reach it. I'm trying to be strong. I imagine that you would be disappointed with me. You came to accept your mother's death in time. I don't know that I can ever accept yours. I will try. I promise you that, I owe you that much. But then what is the point? You aren't _here_ to get mad at me for giving up. You aren't _here_ to help me through hell. You aren't _here_, and you never will be again.

I'm going to finish the book, Kate. I owe it to you. It will be my way of paying my last respects. I'm going to finish it and then I'm going to stop writing. How could I ever write again, ever find inspiration again? I don't know what I'll do. I won't go back to the precinct, I couldn't. Not without you. It holds too many memories. I don't need to work, if I downsized my lifestyle I could live comfortably for the rest of my days. Except I wouldn't really be living. Who knows Kate, maybe once the book is done; I'll come and join you, wherever you are.

All my love, always.

Rick


	2. Isn't She Lovely?

Darling Kate

Today is your birthday. You would have turned thirty two today. Not many people know that. You always managed to hide your age from people. It was Lanie who told me when your birthday was, and how old you would be turning.

She told me last year, but I never did anything about it. I wanted to wait, to see how you acted on the day itself. You seemed sad that day, I remember. You hid it well, but you never could hide it from me. I could always see it in your eyes.

I figured it was because your Mom wasn't there to share the special day with you, so you didn't want to have to share it with anyone. I hope your Dad wished you a happy birthday. No matter how much it hurt, you deserved birthday wishes from someone who cared about you.

I don't know if my theory was correct, and I guess now I never will. I went to see your dad today. He showed me a photo album he has, every year on your birthday; he took a picture of you.

The first tears fell at the picture of you looking all scrunched up, and angrier than I've ever seen you, barely ten minutes old. You were beautiful even then, having only just been exposed to the harsh reality of life on earth.

He flicked through the pictures of you as a toddler, stopping on one taken on your sixth birthday. You were opening a present, and there was a look of glee like nothing I've seen before on your face. I wonder what that gift was. In that picture, your mother is watching you with utter adoration.

I wish I'd gotten to meet her. I feel almost like I did, knowing you. You were so extraordinary. I know you always felt that you couldn't hold a candle to your mother, but she must have been unfathomable to hold a candle to _you_.

The next picture I lingered on was one of you at twelve. You were just entering that awkward stage of adolescence where your legs and arms were too long for your body, and you curled in on yourself to hide your chest. Your face was sullen, like you could think of nothing worse than having a photo taken of you, but your eyes sparkled with love for the people behind the camera.

The next one made my heart stop. You'd grown out of the awkward stage, you must have been fifteen. You'd lost your puppy fat, and your cheekbones were the first thing I noticed. You looked so beautiful. Your hair was darker, and so were your clothes. I could see you slipping into that angst ridden phase you used to tell me about sometimes.

You grew more and more beautiful each year after that. And then you were twenty, and the light in your eyes was gone. The picture didn't look like a birthday photo; I wouldn't have known it was, except that was the purpose of the album. You were sitting at the table, staring at your cake. Every year previously, the cake had looked homemade, but this one was blatantly store bought. I have never known anyone to look at a cake with such venom.

For a long time after that, the pictures were all the same. Candid shots of you looking morose. I don't know who took them. At that time, your dad was drowning in the bottle.

They stopped hurting so much to look at when your dad started appearing again, but there was still pain in your eyes. Then one year, the pain seemed a little less overbearing, it was no longer the only emotion. I rested my finger on that one.

Your dad told me that was the year that I showed up. He thanked me, Katie. For doing what I could to save you. He thanked me for being there when you were slipping away. I cried, and so did he, but there was no shame. No man should have to watch their daughter get shot in front of them. I'll take care of him Kate, I promise you that. I think he's found some solace in Alexis. The two of them are quite close now; he's at the loft a lot, talking to her. I've only seen him smile when he's with her.

He gave me the book Kate. He said he had the memories, the least he could do was give me the pictures. I will treasure that book for the rest of my life, but it will always seem empty to me. There should be at least sixty more pictures in it. It hurts to look at, but it's a good kind of pain. The kind of pain that feels like something inside of me is healing.

I miss you, and I love you

Rick


	3. No Envy, No Fear

Darling Kate

It hurts. I've lost track of the number of nights I've spent sat here by the window, basking in the tender bite of the crisp night. There's a blanket around my shoulders, but it's there as a feeble attempt at comfort rather than any hope of warmth.

I have a playlist on my IPod for these occasions. More often than not I spend all night listening to it. I sit until the sun comes up. Alexis has found me here a couple of times.

The raw and unashamed heartache on her face every time she sees I've spent the night here again is a relief. Feeling something. It means I can feel something.

I'm empty. It's all gone Kate. All of it. My inspiration. My appreciation for the world around me. I'd rather be hurting than feel like this. But that's what I can't do. Feel.

I want to hurt. I want to cry. I want to be mad. I want to _be_, but I can't. I could sit here until the end of time Kate. Just sit and stare all day.

I'm hurting my daughter, but I can't see her. I'm in a vast cavern. It took me when my back was turned. It took me, and it has me, and it's a welcome relief. In here, I can't see the pain in people's eyes when they look at me. In here, I can't see how I disappoint everyone.

It's been a long time since I wrote to you last. I talk to you in my head every day, of course, but I haven't felt the need to write my thoughts down for some time now. Alexis saw me writing to you on your birthday. She told me it wasn't healthy, I had to let it go. But I couldn't. So now I'll see something and I'll think _Kate,__did__you__see__that?_ Or I'll just talk to you when I'm hurting. I haven't told anyone. They would try to make me stop. But I can't. It hurts too much to stop.

So why am I writing now? Alexis is getting married. Married, Kate. She's been dating this guy for a few years now. I like him, I guess, as much as a father can like the other man in his daughter's life. I'm happy for them. But God, it hurts Kate.

Every time she shows me a dress, I picture you in it. Every time she asks me about food, I wonder if you would have liked it. I'm trying to be there for my baby girl, to be excited about her wedding, but all I can think about is _our_ wedding. It's arrogant I know, assuming that you would ever have looked twice at me romantically, let alone agreed to become Mrs Castle.

I remember when we were working that case that involved my friend Damien, so long ago now. You came in and said 'Detective Kate', but then you saw me and said 'Castle.' I hear your voice saying those three words over and over in a loop sometimes. _Detective__Kate__Castle._It has a nice ring to it, I think.

You would have kept your name as Beckett at work though. But I would have forced you to take my name if I'd had to. Everything about our wedding and our lives could be at your discretion, but I would have needed you to be Kate Castle.

Not that it matters anymore.

I miss you, but it's more than that. I miss the future we never got to build. I think of all the time we wasted and it's a raw kind of ache that both burns slowly and slices uncontrollably.

I bet you think I'm being utterly ridiculous. It's not like I ever had you, to be able to miss you properly. But I love you so much that I think its worse that I never got to have you. I don't get to have the memories of our time together as a couple, because we never had that time.

I'm so glad that Alexis found the love of her life and had the sense to tell him, to hold him close. I hope she never lets him go. She's learned from my mistakes, and that is the only comfort I can draw from this.

I envy her. I try to tell myself not to. It's wrong to envy your daughter's happiness I know. But she's got her whole life ahead of her, and most of mine is behind me. Smouldering remains at my feet.

I love you Kate. I wasted so much time. I should have told you in the freezer. In front of the bomb. In LA. After we kissed. When you shot your mom's killer. When I saved you from your burning apartment. When I asked you to go to the Hamptons. When I came back after the most painful summer of my life. After you saved me from the triple killer.

I'm telling you now. I know it's not enough, but it's all I have.

I love you

Rick


	4. Everybody Loves Me

Darling Kate

The launch party for _Heat__Rises_ was last night. I walked into that room, and the cameras exploded in my face. Surely the pictures will be devoid of my presence. Surely everything I was has seeped away to leave nothing that could be captured in a photograph. Surely my skin is so translucent that anyone who cares to look can see the blood reluctantly pumping through my veins.

The press knew not to speak to me. Paula released a statement, telling them to leave me be. Telling them they could have pictures as I entered, but that's it. Telling them that if anyone so much as mentioned your name they would be outside facing the bitter night before they could correct themselves. Like I would even be able to hear someone else utter your name over the incessant calling of it in my head.

The book is selling better than any I've written before. It makes me sick to my stomach. Your loss has caused my greatest financial gain. I don't want it. Not a penny. I'll give it to charity. Your mother's charity. We never got to hold the charity auction for that. I won't now. It would be too painful, imagining you and how you would outshine everyone else in the room.

This is the last book. I'd already finished it by the time of Montgomery's funeral. I only had the dedication left to do. I thought perhaps the dedication would be difficult for me to write, thought perhaps I would struggle with how to summarise my feelings. But it came to me the second I sat down to write it. _For__KB,__always_. I hope you like it. I do. I like that to anyone else it seems almost ordinary, but to you and I, _always_ means something far more than that. It means_I__'__ll__be__here__to__catch__you_. It means _I__'__m__sorry_. It means _I__'__m__not__leaving_. It means _I__love__you_.

The boys understand, as does everyone else at the precinct. They understand that I am beyond grateful, but that this dedication had to be yours alone. Much like my heart. They also understand why I am not coming back. Karpowski told me that she was sure it'd be okay if I shadowed Ryan and Esposito to get inspiration. She didn't realise that it stopped being about the books around the time you shot Dick Coonan. I don't need to do any more research. I didn't get out of the loft and come to the precinct every day for inspiration, I did it for you. I did it so I would have an excuse to see you.

It doesn't matter anyway, whether or not I could return to the precinct. Nikki Heat is done. I didn't kill her. I'm sure I don't need to explain why. I just wrapped up _Heat__Rises_in a way that feels different to the other books. It feels final. It doesn't even carry the same finality as the last Derrick Storm novel does. This book isn't just the end of Nikki Heat; it's the end of Richard Castle the author.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know. I don't need to get rich. I don't need to get famous. I don't need some menial, unimportant job to occupy my time. Maybe someday I'll be able to go back to work. I'll be able to find the incentive to get up in the morning and _do_ something with my day. Maybe.

I will admit it Kate. I'm doing better than I was. I've started to adjust to the pain. That doesn't mean to say it's decreased, but rather my capability to suppress it for extended periods of time has increased. It's not so sharp anymore. The pain. It was sharp and blinding, white hot agony. Then I went completely numb. Now it's a slow ache that burns deep inside me. It's not the kind of wound that heals, not fully.

I love you Kate. I resent that I'm starting the healing process. I know it's insane, but the pain is like a physical manifestation of my emotional adoration for you. And I feel like as the pain lessens, my body is betraying me. My love for you won't lessen, I don't doubt that. How could it? I'm not a mixture. I'm a compound, an irreversible reaction. I can't go back. And I don't want to.

I don't know when I will next write to you. I don't know whether the letters help. I think they do, but everyone around me disapproves. This isn't it though Kate. This is the only thing I have now, the only shred of you left to cling to. So although the letters may become more infrequent, they will not stop.

So farewell, but not forever. I love you.

Rick


	5. Now We Can See

Darling Kate

It's my fault. That's why I cannot allow myself to wallow in self pity. When you first told me about your mother's case, the first thing I did was persuade Esposito to take me down to the archives and show me the file. I took it. I was arrogant. What on earth made me think I would be able to solve the case?

I had already found the information about the method used to kill your mother when I came to you about reopening your mother's case. You told me that if I touched the case, we were done. That's why I hesitated in telling you. I didn't want to; I was ready to drop it. I knew how the information would hurt you. My mother told me that I had to tell you. I was terrified that I would lose you, but I told you anyway.

It broke you. I'm so sorry. You took me back, which I did not deserve. You were right when you said I opened your mother's case for me. I wanted to prove my worth. I did it for you as well, or I thought I did. I never thought about how I might break you. I will never understand why you took me back.

Then you had to kill the one link you had to the man who ordered the hit on your mother to save my sorry ass. I didn't want you to do it. I would have died for you then, you know. I wanted him to shoot me, so you could have some chance of finding the guy behind your mother's murder.

When I told you I was going to go, I hope you know I felt like my heart was being torn apart. I never wanted to leave you, but I thought it would be easier to go than for you to have to ask me to leave. When you said those things, about how you were used to having me around and you wanted me around when you caught the sons of bitches behind your Mom's death, I could have cried with relief. That was the first time you'd given me any indication that my presence wasn't the bane of your existence.

Everything went quiet for a long time, Kate, almost a year. Then when Raglan wanted to tell you something, and you told him I was someone you trusted, I felt so unworthy.

_When__I__saw__the__blood__on__your__shirt__I__thought__you__'__d__been__shot_. I said that. I didn't say _my__heart__stopped_. I didn't say _it__would__destroy__me__if__something__happened__to__you_. I didn't say _I__love__you_. I thought all of those things. I hope you could hear the unspoken sentiment in what I did say.

God dammit Kate, that kiss. I think we both know it wasn't a ruse. That moan that you let escape, it almost brought me to my knees. Your taste is indescribable, but I could recognise it anywhere. That was without a doubt the most intense and incredible kiss of my life.

I punched the shit out of Lockwood to save you. I could have killed him in that moment Kate. I could have taken his life with my bare hands. You wrapped my hand for me, and that was the first time I told you always. I almost told you I love you right then, but I remembered Josh. Demming drove me away from you, but by the time Josh came around nothing on earth could have driven me from you.

So I bit my tongue, and I watched him love you. I watched you go home to him and I pretended you didn't take a piece of my heart with you every time you left.

I asked you to walk away. I know it was wrong. Your father and Montgomery both told me that I was the only person that could get you to step down, but even then I hated myself.

What right did I have to ask you to walk away? I was the one that opened the case in the first place. I was the one that dragged you back into it. I had no right to turn around and ask you to walk away from the case I led you to.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, love. You were justified when you told me to leave. You said _if__you__'__re__very__lucky,__you__find__someone__willing__to__stand__with__you_. You looked at me when you said it. I hope you know that I would stand with you, even if everyone else on the planet was against you, I would be there. Even if you killed a man, I would support you.

I'm sorry. Kate, it's my fault. It's my fault you're gone. I don't understand how your father has forgiven me. I don't understand why your friends and family don't despise me the way I despise myself. I'm so sorry.

I miss you, I need you, I love you.

Rick


	6. Wonderful Night

Darling Kate

Today, Alexis chose her wedding dress. It's beautiful, ivory and slim lined, but not skin tight. She took my breath away. I'm so very proud of her. I've seen her in plenty of dresses, but she's never looked quite so _light_. So carefree, so happy. I only ever saw you in a dress four times.

The first time was when we were working that home invasion case. You remember, we went undercover at a charity auction that Metropolitan American Dance Theatre held. I bought you that dress. I hope you didn't think I was being arrogant. I just knew exactly what to expect of these events, and I knew that you didn't. I knew you were annoyed enough that you had to go in the first place; I didn't want you to have to worry about what to wear.

I honestly didn't think you'd wear it, so when you showed up at my door I hope you can forgive my breathlessness. When I picked it out in the store I thought that I could picture you in it, but my mental picture did you no justice. It clung to you like it was relishing every precious piece of you that it got to touch. It was like a delicious second skin, designed purely to accentuate every single one of your assets. You were so beautiful that night. I was torn between wanting to see you in that dress for the rest of my life and wanting to tear it off you. I know you were adamant it wasn't a date, but my God I wish it had been, so then if I had kissed you like I wanted to, you would have allowed it. That night was also the first night we danced together. The first night I got to hold you, feel the warmth of your body next to mine.

The second time I saw you in a dress was at the book launch party for Nikki Heat. Paula told me that your dress was Hervé Leger. I remember thinking; _she bought a designer dress for this_? Paula also told me to sleep with you. She told me to get it out of my system, but even then I knew I wanted more than a casual fling with you. I wanted to get to know you. I wasn't going to take the other book offer, you know. But then you told me you wanted me to take it, and I would have done anything for you, even then. So I decided to take it. Even if I had accepted the other offer, I had no intention of saying goodbye to you. I made the decision to get to know you in a non work capacity. But then they offered me a three book Nikki Heat deal and you know the rest.

Anyway, back to the dress. You looked incredible. I know you were nervous to work the red carpet and have your picture taken, but you handled it like a pro. You entered that room, your cobalt dress hugging your slender frame, and I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Your presence commanded the attention of every single person in the room for a moment, but you held my attention for far longer. That was the night you started to believe that I thought you were extraordinary. I know you didn't really believe me when I told you in the hospital after Sorenson got shot, but when I put it in the dedication so the world would know how I felt; I think it started to sink in for you, just a little.

The third time was my least favourite. You were on a date with some fireman that you apparently thought was hunky. You looked amazing. Your dress was red and one sleeved. Your hair was curled and pinned up, exposing the delicate column of your neck. I wanted to be the one on the date with you. I wanted to have dinner with you. I wanted to be the one that got to take you home that night. I loved you even then Kate. I hadn't admitted it to myself yet. I knew I wanted to be your friend, to be the one who was there for you, but I don't think I realised the depth of my own emotions then.

The fourth time, everything was different. We were going clubbing. You knew you were going to be flirting, so you dressed more provocatively than I've ever seen you. Damn Kate, that dress clung to you and you know what, I was jealous. I was jealous of a dress. I wanted to cling to you. This time was different because when I looked at you, I knew what your body felt like against mine. When I looked at your lips, their taste came rushing back to me. I didn't have to imagine running my fingers through your hair because I knew exactly what it would feel like.

There is one dress I never saw you in, a wedding dress. I don't know if I should be thankful or devastated. If it had been _our_ wedding, you know I would have been the happiest man alive that day. But if I had ever had to watch you marry someone else, I would shatter. I would fracture into pieces so unintelligible there would be no hope of ever fixing me. Like you told me, once you made that commitment it would have been forever. So I don't know, Kate. I just don't know. I dream about those four experiences sometimes, and a million others I never experienced.

It's getting easier. I still ache, I still miss you with every pathetic atom that makes up who I am, but it's easier to deal with. There have been longer and longer periods of time where I am able to function almost normally. Of course, the whole time I feel an aching sense of guilt. I _should_ be hurting. After all the times I hurt _you_, all the times you took me back when I didn't deserve it, the cruelty of being left to live without you is deserved. I only wish my punishment didn't mean that you got hurt. I would happily take this pain a thousand times over if it meant that you could live.

I'm still here, I'm still fighting. I know you wouldn't want me to give up.

I love you.

Rick


	7. Into the Blue

Darling Kate

Today, my baby got married. She's not mine anymore. I gave her away. I trust her husband to take care of her. He makes her happy, and really that's all I can ask of him. She looked so radiant today Kate.

My knees were shaking so badly as I walked her down the aisle I honestly thought I wouldn't make it to the end. But I did. I drew from a strength I had no idea I possess. I made it to the end, I handed her to her husband and then I collapsed into a chair.

The worst thing about weddings is that they always seem to be full of couples. Of course I didn't ask some mindless bimbo to accompany me. My 'date' was my mother. Everyone shot me pitying looks all day long; they all knew exactly who I wished could have been on my arm. I wanted to hurt them. Today was about Alexis. Not about me, or you. Not about my pain.

Not that Alexis wanted that. She made a speech. She gave me a copy of it, like she knew I would need to read it to allow her words to sink in.

_I know it's not customary for the bride to make a speech. I also know that my father wants today to be about me. But he's broken, and I know he's trying his best to hide it for me, but I still see it in his eyes. I'm so proud of him. It would have been so easy for him to just give up, but he didn't. He fought, and he's still fighting. He was in love, and he lost her. We lost her. I loved her too. Her absence is tangible. I miss her. I wish she could have been here. I'd like to toast to her. To Detective Kate Beckett._

No one batted an eyelid when I waited for everyone to raise their glass and then fled. Mother came to find me. She told me how proud she was of me. I managed to pull myself together and go back into the reception in time to dance with my daughter.

For most of the day I was successful in pushing aside thoughts of you, but once it was all over, I went to my room in the hotel and threw myself onto the bed. I sobbed as I thought of you.

What would you have worn? What would you have done with your hair? Your makeup? What perfume would drive me crazy every time I caught its scent on you? Would you have danced with me? I hope you would have. God I hope you would have.

I danced with my daughter. I danced with my mother. I even danced with Lanie. She was there, as were Esposito, Ryan and Jenny. I didn't think they'd come, but they said that I'm a part of the precinct family, and that means Little Castle is too.

I didn't write to you after Ryan and Jenny's wedding. I'll be honest; a lot of it is a blur of champagne. I remember that Esposito cried when he mentioned you in his best man speech. I remember that Ryan cried as he spoke about the sister he misses so much. I remember I didn't cry. I just felt empty.

Today has been a strange day. I'm happy, of course, and so proud of my little girl. But a part of me aches at the thought that she is no longer mine. I wish you could have been there. You would have helped me to see that she isn't going to abandon me. You always knew just what to say when it came to Alexis, just how to comfort me.

She's venturing out into the world, into the blue expanse of the ocean, and she no longer needs me to guide her, to hold her hand. She no longer needs me.

I miss you every day. But its days like today that are the worst. Days where everything is about family, about being with the people you love. I feel like I'm not even justified in my heartache. You weren't my wife, you weren't even my girlfriend. I feel like I don't have the right to ache this way. The hole inside of me has no place, it isn't warranted.

I'm getting better. But if I stretch myself too far, if I try to pretend that I'm fine, the edges rip where they're so indistinctly joined. They rip, and I tear. I'm torn up. Still, after all this time, I'm torn up. It's been years now Kate. Years. Even your father is doing better than I am.

I didn't deserve you in life, and I don't deserve to grieve for you. But despite that, despite everything, I love you.

No matter what. I love you.

Rick


	8. Can't Stop

Darling Kate

At 4:17am this morning, my granddaughter was born.

She's so beautiful Kate. So very beautiful. Her eyes are like sapphire oceans, I could get lost in them until the end of time. Her perfect lips are a delicate rose, and they pucker adorably whenever she's hungry. She has a mess of dark hair. So much hair, Kate. Her skin is like porcelain. Her fingers are so tiny, but she had so much strength when she grasped one of mine. Already so much strength.

I'm in awe of her. I know you can probably tell. I know I didn't write to you for any of the milestones of Alexis' pregnancy. In truth, I've been saving them. I wanted to write one letter, group everything together. I wanted to be able to picture my granddaughter when I told you about the first nine months of her existence.

I'm not ashamed to admit it, I cried when Alexis told me. I cried with joy, but my tears were tinged with sorrow. Even then, the one moment I should have been entirely focusing on my daughter, you crept into my thoughts. I wept for you. I wept for the children you never got to have, the children that would have been so blessed to have you as their mother.

Every moment with Alexis on this incredible journey became a moment with you in my mind. Of course it would be different with you, she's my daughter, you're the love of my life, but the basic foundations are there.

Alexis struggled with morning sickness the first few months. I'd go round to her place to look after her when her husband had to be at work. I bet you would have been monstrous when the nausea took you. You would have screamed at me not to lay a hand on you. Yes, this whole time I've been allowing myself to imagine the children that you and I could have created. A ludicrous notion I know, but one that I find too alluring to dismiss.

I hope I would have been supportive. If your mood swings were anything like the ones that ravaged my daughter I would have been on quite the rollercoaster, but I would have stuck it out for you. Alexis would go from sobbing to laughing to angrier than I've ever seen her within the space of a few minutes. It was exhausting to watch, never mind how draining it must have been to suffer through.

The mood swings let up eventually, although they still plague her even now. She started to show. My daughter's body as it bloomed with the cherished life within was breathtaking.

It would have been tough for you. You often struggled to garner respect from suspects simply because of your gender and your beauty. Once your body started to show visible signs of the life within, you would have struggled to muster any respect from anyone. But when you came home and cried about it I would have assured you that you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

We would have fought ferociously. I would resent you for risking our child's life at work, and you would resent me for trying to strip you of your freedom. We would have compromised I know, but those fights would have stung. They wouldn't break us, nothing could have torn me from you once I had known what it was to hold you, but they would have hurt.

I wasn't there for the birth of my granddaughter, but I spent the whole time pacing back and forth in the waiting room.

You would have been stoic in labour. You wouldn't let a simple thing like agonising pain defeat you. I imagine you would have crushed my hand as the contractions tore through you and left you weak and gasping for breath, a concession to the pain.

I would have urged you to keep pushing, and you would have told me to shut up. I can just imagine it. I would say _just one more push honey, you're doing so well_. And you would scream_ I'd like to see you give one more push_.

And when our child entered the world, I would have told you over and over how proud I was of you, how beautiful you looked. I would have cried unashamedly at the life we had created.

It hurts Kate. Knowing I won't have any more children. I loved every minute of raising Alexis. I always assumed I'd have more children one day. I know that technically I still could, but I won't. I didn't know it was possible to miss a possibility for the future, but I covet the life I never got to build with you with an aching intensity.

I walked in on Alexis and her husband once, curled on their sofa. She sat in the gap between his legs and his hands made lazy patterns on her stomach. And old black and white movie flickered in the background but I got the feeling that they were both more engrossed by their child than the movie. I can so easily picture us doing that. I can picture us doing all of it.

I can hear her crying. She's not here, she's still in the hospital and I'm in the loft. I'm not sure if it _is_ her, or Alexis from the past, or the children from an unattainable future.

I was crying quietly in awe of my granddaughter, but when Alexis told me her name I broke down sobbing. _Elsie Katherine_. She's named after you. Alexis told me she wanted her daughter to have your strength, your kindness and your intelligence. She told me that she loved you, and she wanted her daughter to know that love. She said she fully intends to tell Elsie all about you. I don't know if I can handle that Kate.

You would have ridiculed my tears at my granddaughter, but I know that when we got home you would have held me. You would have reassured me that I wasn't old, that my life wasn't slipping away.

I need you now Kate. I love you.

Rick


	9. Get What I Want

Darling Kate

Today is Christmas Day. Once, this was my favourite day of the year. Alexis and I would always do breakfast, and then at 8 o'clock sharp Mother knew we did presents. She would always appear in time for the wrapping paper to start flying.

Christmas used to be magical, but this year it was empty. Alexis and her husband invited me over to their apartment for Christmas Dinner, but that meant I had to find something to do with myself until 1 o'clock.

Mother and I exchanged gifts, silence bearing down on us. The presents were nice, but nothing special. Nothing's special any more. Afterwards, Mother took a bath. I went for a run. While everyone else in New York opened presents with their families, I ran.

I've been running a lot lately. Not to get fit, but because it's a good distraction. I love the burning that starts in my lungs, the way my knees turn to jelly. I have to focus all my thoughts on just breathing. I don't have room to think of how I miss Alexis, of how long it's been since I last saw Elsie. I don't have room to think of you.

After my run, I took a shower, and then Mother and I went to Alexis' apartment. I have four girls spanning four generations; each of you holds a place in my heart. Mother. You. Alexis. Elsie. I spent the day with three of the four. I know I should be grateful for that, but I can't help feeling that you were the one I would have chosen. Back when it happened, I would have chosen Alexis, but now she has her husband and her daughter, I'd choose you.

Elsie is an amazing distraction. The way her eyes lit up at all the gifts, her giggles ringing out across the room. She spoke. She called me Gramps. I teared up. I feel so old. I spent most of my youth feeling like I was waiting for my life to begin, and now I feel like I'm waiting for it to end.

My favourite part of Christmas is the evening. Once Alexis and mother had gone to bed, I would go down to Times Square. Most people go there to see in the New Year, but I always go at Christmas. You get all the magic without all the people. I _think_ you'd like it, but I would be happy to sit at home and watch the crappy TV as long as I got to hold your hand.

Today feels like Christmas in a vacuum. It's here, all the objects, all the phrases, but all the feeling is gone. It should be magical, I should feel happy, but I'm empty too.

We're having your dad over tomorrow. I asked if he wanted to join us today but he refused. I feel so selfish. Here I am complaining that one of my four girls is missing. Your dad had both of his taken from him. I rang him twice today. I checked he wasn't drinking, I said it wasn't too late for him to change his mind, but he said he was okay. I think he's been remembering. I'm looking out for him, don't worry.

This isn't the first Christmas I've done without you, and it won't be the last. You'd have been good at it, I think. I know you would have been sad, you would have missed your Mother, but you would have still made it magical. You would have looked adorable in your pyjamas opening presents. I would have lavished upon you everything you ever could have wanted, and you would have worried about what to get me. Your presence would have been enough. Your presence was always more than I deserved.

Merry Christmas sweetheart. I love you.

Rick


	10. Dancing With Myself

Darling Kate

My Mother had a massive heart attack. She died in the middle of the night in her bed. She was seventy four.

I'm sorry. I'm still in the cold, clinical mode I used to get myself through the funeral. I spent the whole time pretending that this wasn't happening to me. I tried to be an onlooker. I didn't have to be the supportive father; my daughter had her husband to lean on. That left me free to cope however I chose. I chose to push it away. This was some other guy's mother, not mine. I couldn't do it any other way.

This has always been where I can go to _feel_. You are the one person I will allow myself to feel pain in front of any more.

The loft has been empty for some time now; the two of us were just existing. I think she knew she didn't have long left, and my life shattered over ten years ago. The loft was empty, but now it's vacant. I don't fill it. I don't _live_ here. I don't live anywhere.

God, I feel so stupid Kate. I should be over you by now. It's been eleven years. You'd think I'd be able to function almost normally by now, but every day is still a battle. The wound was almost healed. The edges were stretching together, trying to encompass the pain, but losing my mother ripped them brutally separate once more.

The loneliness is all encompassing. I have no mother, no daughter, no lover. Sure I still have friends, Ryan, Esposito, Lanie and Jenny are my four best friends in the world. The precinct is a family. You and I were Mom and Dad to Ryan and Esposito. But as much as a second family as the precinct is, they can't be there in the same way a true family can. They aren't here in the dark, when night terrors wrench me from sleep. They can't hold me and comfort me until sleep takes me once again.

I was lonely but not alone when I lost you, and when Alexis moved out. My mother was my rock, my driving force. Were it not for her, once Alexis left I would have decayed. And now she's gone. She's gone, and I have no one left to stay strong for.

I know that you know what it is to lose a mother. I know that I was lucky; I got so much time with mine. I was always in awe of you, but now that I truly know the heartache of losing a mother my admiration for you is unfathomable.

I know I'll keep fighting. I still have Alexis, even if she no longer lives here. I still have your father. I still have my precinct family. I hold a delicate partnership with each. But they can only fill the daylight hours. Once the darkness descends I will be left to dance alone.

I never thought I could miss you more, but the absence of my mother makes my heart ache for her and for you.

I love you Kate

Rick


	11. The End

Darling Kate,

I'm dying. It's cancer. I'm not afraid. I know that I probably should be, but I'm not. I'm seventy now. I haven't been living for so long; this is just the inevitable end to a terrible reality.

I will get to see my mother again. I'm sad to be leaving Alexis of course. I hate how much pain this is causing her. But she's in safe hands. Her husband loves her very much, and I'm sure she'll find solace in the company of her children.

Her children. My grandchildren. They brought light to my life when I thought I would forever be in darkness. I lose myself in their innocence. They have no idea of the pain that life will bring. I only hope that they find the kind of love that I found. I hope that they are smart enough to address it, to not make the same mistakes I did.

I haven't been with a woman in over thirty years. I couldn't do that to you. It felt too much like betrayal. Alexis told me that I was being stupid, that you were never selfish when you were alive, so why would you be now you were-. I can't write it. It's been thirty years and I can't write it. She told me to try and find happiness, because that's what you would have wanted for me. But I know I could never find happiness in the arms of another. You ruined me for every other woman on the planet.

Death does not scare me. I dream of it sometimes. I don't believe in heaven. But I believe in us. I know that wherever I end up, you will be there waiting. I need to be able to tell you properly.

Alexis has seen these letters. She hasn't read any of them but she's seen me writing them and I think she knows what they're about. She said I should publish them. She said that the world deserves to know what happened to Richard Castle, why he finished _Heat Rises_ and then disappeared.

I won't do it, Kate. They were too painful to write. I would never put anyone else through reading that. And they're personal. They contain my thoughts during my most vulnerable state. They contain things about you that I like to think no one else knows.

My life changed the day I met you Kate. I don't think I knew it then, but you had me the moment you uttered my name. You changed me into a better man. You helped me to grow up, to see that there are more important things than fun in life. It makes me so angry to think that you didn't get to touch more lives. You could have done some amazing things. You already were extraordinary, given more time you could have been incredible.

People tried to comfort me by saying it was your time. But I don't think it was. I think it was _my_ time. I think I was meant to take that bullet for you. What have I given to the world? So very little. Every day, I pray that with the way the world is advancing technologically, someone will invent a time machine. I'm well aware it would cause havoc. But I'd go back in time. I'd tell the 'me' at the funeral that day what was going to happen. I'd make sure that the Rick Castle of 2010 knew to dive in front of you, to take the bullet.

I lie in this bed in the hospital, growing ever weaker. Even now, sometimes there is a phantom taste on my tongue and I just know that it's you.

I remember one time all those years ago a conversation I had with Alexis. It's a miracle I can remember anything from that period at all. Everything is black around the edges and tainted with scotch. I swore I wouldn't lose myself in the bottle. I saw how it destroyed you having to save your dad, and I wasn't going to let that happen to Alexis. But I'm not ashamed to admit that I sometimes struggled to get through the day without a drink.

But anyway. She said to me. "Dad, we all lose our friends sometimes. You'll get through it." But you were more than just a friend. You were my best friend. You were my partner. You were the love of my life. I always pledged that we were more than friends. Friends come and go, but I wasn't ever going to let you leave.

I'm so cold Kate. So very cold. It's seeping into my bones, settling over me with an icy familiarity. I've given up trying to hold on. What do I have to hold on for? Not Mother. No father. My daughter just needs this to be over so she can start moving on. I wrote a proposal once. To you. I remember I wrote _one day when I'm old and gray, I want your face to be the last thing I see_. But I can't have that, can I. I'm just hoping that your face can be the first thing I see instead, wherever I end up.

The end is coming near. I can feel it Kate. Darling, precious, beautiful Kate. You were the light of my life, and when you flickered out, so did my happiness. But I can see you again. You're a faint glow of familiarity in the distance.

They say the last of the senses to go is sound, but they're wrong. It's love. I can't see or feel or taste or smell or hear anything. I have been stripped down to one essential component. All I am now is love. Love for my mother, your father. Love for my daughter and my grandchildren. Love for you.

Even now, after all this time. Love for you

Rick


	12. Letter From Bee

Darling Readers

These have been letters to Kate, and this is my letter to you. I didn't want to taint the letters with author notes, so I've saved everything I wanted to say for the end.

I'll be honest; I started this fic as an outlet that was better for me than the self destructive habits that had started to encroach upon my life. I had depression, and writing about it became a way of letting it out without physically hurting myself.

This fic means more to me than anything I've ever written before, and probably ever will again. All my other fics are just stories, some are fluffy, some are not so fluffy, but they're all made up. _Letters__to__Kate_ comes straight from my heart. I haven't lost someone, but the heartache that Rick goes through is a heightened version of what I was feeling. What I still sometimes feel.

The last letter was the hardest for me in a lot of ways. First of all, I'm not dying, so I struggled a little to put myself in that mindset. Secondly, I didn't want to let this fic go. But as much as I wanted to cling to it, I felt like it was time. I do have another fic that's there in case I need an outlet again, but I'm not sure if it will ever get published.

I said that about this fic, but a friend of mine read the first letter and said I should publish it. I listened to her, and I'm so glad I did. Every single review for this story almost had me in tears. You guys have all been so sweet to me. The reviews mean more to me because this fic means so much to me, and also because I never once asked for reviews. I honestly wouldn't have minded it if no one had reviewed me, but so many of you did, and I don't deserve any of your kind words.

If anybody wants to talk to me more, anonymously or not, I have a tumblr and my ask box is always open. I'll happily just listen.

**her0ineaddict (dot) tumblr (dot) com**

I can't put into words the depth of my gratitude for each and every review. I'd like to apologise to all those of you that complained because I made you cry. I'm not going to lie, it's an incredible feeling to know that my words had that affect on someone, but I'm sorry all the same. I'm really going to miss this fic. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

I love you guys.

Bee

xoxo

I don't know if you noticed, but each letter is titled after a song. I tried to use songs that have been featured in Castle episodes. Here's the full list. The songs that were featured in Castle episodes have a (*) next to them.

**With****or****Without****You** – U2

**Isn****'****t****She****Lovely** – Stevie Wonder

**No****Envy,****No****Fear** – Joshua Radin *

**Everybody****Loves****Me** – OneRepublic *

**Now****We****Can****See** – The Thermals *

**Wonderful****Night** – Fatboy Slim *

**Into****the****Blue** – Sarah Jackson-Holman *

**Can****'****t****Stop** – MoZella *

**Get****What****I****Want** – Bitter: Sweet *

**Dancing****With****Myself** – The Donnas *

**Come****and****Find****Me** – Josh Ritter *

**The****End** – Pearl Jam *


	13. Letter From Alexis

This was sent to me by a reader and I really liked it, so I thought I'd share it with you all. All credit for this chapter goes to hheath541

* * *

><p>Dear Kate,<p>

My Dad died today.

I know you already know that. He already told you about it. I hope he's already there with you. I hope he got to hear you tell him you love him. I hope you get to be together now.

I read his letters to you. I'm not sure if he wanted me to, or not, but I needed to. I watched him exist since you died. I watched him mourn and rage and cry. I watched as each smile had tears behind it. Tears because you weren't there to smile at. I needed to know what he'd been thinking, going through. I wanted to share his pain, and maybe help it be a little less.

Tell Dad I won't publish his letters. I will keep them, though.

Tell Dad I love him and miss him. Tell him that I understand. Tell him that I'm glad his pain is over. That he gets to see you again. Tell him that I know he's happy, now. That his pain is ended.

And, Kate, I hope you were there waiting for him. I hope you were the first person he saw. I hope he got to hear you tell him that you love him. I hope you are both happy, now.

I love you, Kate, and I hope you're taking care of Dad. He's needed you so much. I don't know what it's like wherever you are, but I hope you get the chance to live the life he always wanted with you.

I love you both, and I miss you, but I'll be ok. Take care of each other. Love each other. Maybe I'll see you again someday.

Alexis


End file.
